


I can keep pretending.

by thornapple (survivalinstinctvalkyria)



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, This is basically 10k of Eichi pining over Keito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/thornapple
Summary: He'll keep pretending for as long as he can delude himself into thinking that this actually means something.





	I can keep pretending.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acciss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciss/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Eichi!!
> 
> My health hasn't been doing well lately so sorry if some things here seem off but... It's here

Light filtering through the blonde is what wakes Eichi up. As his eyes blink open, he shifts a bit, instantly recognizing the soreness plaguing his body.

Keito had been rough last night.

He turns over to face the other side of the room, or, more specifically, to face Keito, back turned to Eichi and head buried in his pillow. Upon being greeted with the sight, Eichi smiles, reaching an arm out to play with the hairs at Keito's neck.

He waits for the trainwreck of nausea to hit him, but it never comes. Ah, right, he shouldn't be expecting it. Last night had been one of those rare occasions where they didn't need to drunk before they could throw away their inhibitions, completely sober as their hands gliding across each other's bodies.

Still, even without the alcohol, Keito hadn't compromised on his roughness, and it _aches._ He wonders where Keito even finds it in himself to act like that, but he doesn't question Keito about it; it's better not to make changes to their arrangement.

He feels the bedsheets shift under him, and alas, Keito is awake. The other man turns over, and by the look on his face, he's surprised when he realizes that Eichi is playing with his hair.

“Good morning,” Eichi greets him, voice effortlessly smooth and flirtatious. Keito just grumbles, pushing the comforter off of his body to get ready for the morning.

“Come on,” he grumbles when he notices Eichi not getting up.

“I don't wanna move, it hurts.”

Embarrassment crosses over Keito's face like a phantom. “You're sore.”

“I told you not to flip me over when we have sex. The entire reason that I ride you is so that I can stay in control and not have to wake up in pain,” Eichi scolds.

“That's… saying those sorts of things so carefreely, have you any shame?”

“I'm not listening to you insult me like that. Go make me breakfast.”

Keito just stares at him for a moment, before walking past Eichi, muttering in a begrudged tone. “As you wish, _your highness.”_

Things have changed, indeed, for the two of them to be bickering about their sexual ventures first thing in the morning. That's the kind of thing that couples do, maybe. But they're definitely not a couple, just a pair of childhood best friends who fuck occasionally when they crave the feeling of another body against their own. And that frustrates Eichi to no end.

Even more frustrating is the fact that Keito can't even let him be intimate about it. It's always pragmatic, always _we'll both get off quicker if we do it this way._ But Eichi bears with it, because, at the very least, Eichi can recall the sensation of Keito inside him and try to delude himself into thinking that it actually means something; that this emotionless sex built on nothing but physical pleasure — where they're not allowed to kiss, look at each other's faces, or listen to each other's noises — actually means something.

* * *

 

Keito's hand is nice to hold, Eichi realizes when he grabs it suddenly to drag Keito over to a store that caught his attention. He wishes he could hold it more often, but that would probably be too intimate for Keito to let it pass.

Back to the point, Keito's body is warm where Eichi's is freezing, so warm that Eichi just wants to cuddle up to his side.

“We're shopping here,” he tells Keito, ignoring Keito's grumble.

“I thought I told you to limit your tea intake. And you have enough teacups.”

“There's no harm in a few more, is there?”

“There is,” Keito says, though it's in vain as Eichi pulls him further ahead.

They reach a display of expensive teacup sets, priceless by the average person's standards, he'd bet. Each set has a different theme, all intricate and ornamental. He watches Keito survey the different sets, taking a guess at which one he enjoys the most.

“Do you have a preference, Keito? I wanted to get a set specially for the two of us.”

“I don't see why we can't just use a regular set.”

“Because, Keito,” Eichi whines back, “I think my best friend and I should get a special set to commemorate our bond.”

Keito sighs. “Fine, just don't expect me to give you any money. And if you wanted my choice… I'd say the blue one in the corner.”

Eichi looks over to the teacups Keito indicates, almost surprised. They're not exactly the most intricate design wise, a white exterior decorated with gold trim, but the blue sky painted inside is pretty.

“Any reason you chose that set in particular?”

Keito looks up from the cups to Eichi, lifting a hand to brush Eichi's forelocks behind his ear, leaning in close enough for their noses to brush.

“That blue is the same color as your eyes,” he explains, breath tickling Eichi's lips. “I can't think of a more beautiful color.”

Whatever reply Eichi could have planned is lost in the space between them, Eichi's lips parting silently in surprise as his ears begin scorching.

“That's… rather romantic.”

Keito pinches Eichi's cheek with the hand that was resting against his neck, and it's unfair how the skin glows pink under his touch. “I was just stating a fact.”

“I-I think that would be flirting by anyone's standards.”

“So I can't have preferences? Fine, then, why don't you choose?”

“You're so unfair,” Eichi pouts, pushing Keito's hand away.

Knowing Keito, it's infuriatingly likely that he's being honest, but that doesn't make it any fairer for poor Eichi, who just wants a taste of Keito's love. It's unfair of Keito to brush it against his lips so teasingly, only to pull it away right after. Incorrigible, by Keito's words.

“...I'll buy them if it makes you happy, Keito,” Eichi finally tells him, unable to resist the chance to do something that would please Keito. For the person who's stayed by his side faithfully, Eichi is ever eager to please.

“Thank you. You'll have to have it shipped to your apartment, though, there's no way we're taking that in the subway.”

“You don't need to treat me like a child; I'm not stupid,” Eichi grumbles, only now noticing that he and Keito are still holding hands.

He doesn't say anything, dragging Keito over to the cashier by that same held hand.

Once they're out of the store, the stop to rest on a bench, shoulders just barely brushing. Eichi is about to suggest a restaurant when Keito leans in to whisper in his ear.

“If it's alright with you, can we eat at my place? I got some sushi, and you know what they say: the more the merrier.” He pauses, averting Eichi's gaze for a moment. “And after that, if you're up for it, could I…”

“You can have me,” Eichi whispers back. “But first: sushi. It better be good sushi, Keito.”

“If you aren't pleased with the food I give you then don't expect me to feed you.”

* * *

 

They have three rules for when they have sex: no kissing, no making noises, and no looking at each other.

Kissing is easy for them to avoid, at least on paper, even though there are times when their lips have brushed at the fault of both of them. Covering their mouths by holding fabric to their face or tying something around their mouths works well enough to muffle their noises, and they always make sure that all lights are turned off once they're at it.

They don't need to turn the lights off as Eichi prepares himself, though, and it's amazing how Keito can just calmly sit there reading a book as Eichi works himself open on the same bed.

He holds his shirt close to his mouth, all of his small whimpers and moans muffled nearly to silence. He's only really heard himself make those kinds of noises a few times, at those times when he'd craved Keito but Keito hadn't been there, and even so, he's only heard small whines and moans, so he isn't accustomed with hearing it.

Even if Keito can't hear, it's still embarrassing to think about the fact that he's moaning Keito's name into the shirt, even though that's _romantic_ and as such not supposed to happen. He can't help it, because it's _Keito_ he craves, not just another body, so he just pretends that he doesn't.

How _would_ Keito react if he heard the kind of noises Eichi makes? Would he recoil and call it disgusting? Knowing him, probably, but there's also the chance that he would return the moans. Maybe, they could whisper _I love you_ to each other, as they go at it. Ah, those kinds of thoughts are too embarrassing, and make his face go red faster than the notion that Keito's going to he fucking him soon.

He doesn't even need Keito to fuck him, really; he'd be more than content to be held safely in Keito's arms. Hell, he might even prefer that, because that would be affectionate — intimate, even — which is just what this sex isn't.

If this sex _was_ intimate, though, what would it be like? Slower, probably, focused on each other's noises and expressions as opposed to just pleasure. Would Keito's frantic kisses that he presses to Eichi's chest when the pleasure gets too strong for him to think properly become some sort of foreplay? Maybe, those frantic kisses could become mere displays of affection, kisses on his cheeks, the thought somehow making Eichi's heart pound faster than the thought of what the kisses actually are.

Lost in his daydreams, Eichi's grip on the shirt he's holding loosens, the shirt moving away from his lips just enough for a quiet whine bearing a suspicious resemblance to Keito's name to be heard.

Instantly, he looks up to lock eyes with Keito. He half-expects him to he scowling, or blushing profusely, and he doesn't know what to make of the expression he gets.

His entire face is clouded with an emotion Eichi isn't used to seeing on him. Lust, it might be called, desire, but that doesn't matter, only the fact that it makes Eichi heart twist. His eyes focus on Eichi's lips, and God, Eichi never realized how green his eyes are. When he does part his lips to speak, it's so soft that Eichi knows he's in a daze.

“Eichi,” he whispers, voice low and bordering on a growl as if he's trying to beckon Eichi closer. He sounds hungry, almost, like Eichi is the only meal in the world and he's been starved for weeks.

It's unfair what hearing his name does to him, because Eichi can't hold back his mewl at the thought of Keito desiring _him,_ not his body, but _Eichi._

That's what snaps them back to the present, and they blink at each other for a few moments as their faces go red.

“I-I mean-! I-Is something wrong, Eichi?” Keito sputters, his dazed look from earlier gone.

“I'm fine, j-just… I got distracted, and stopped holding the shirt correctly.”

Keito goes silent for a moment, a pensive look on his face. “Were you thinking about someone else?”

Someone else? Oh, right, Keito doesn't share the same sentiments as Eichi. Should he lie and say yes, or be honest and tell the truth, even if it revolts Keito? He decides on telling the truth; even if they are just friends with benefits in Keito's mind, he doubts it would be very pleasant for Keito if he thought Eichi used him as a replacement.

“I was thinking about you,” he admits, sliding his fingers out of himself and wiping them on the bed sheets. “I don't see why you have to ask, anyway, it was _your_ name I… um, moaned…”

“What kinds of things were you thinking?” Keito prodes, shutting his book to lean closer to Eichi.

“I was thinking about how… rough, you've been lately…?” _That's_ a lie, but he's not going to let it slip that he loves Keito under circumstances like these.

“And it made you moan?”

Eichi is quick to throw the nearest pillow square at Keito's face. “Don't say it like that! I was fingering myself; can you really blame me?”

“That’s not how I meant it…!” Keito huffs. “I thought that if you were moaning, the thought pleased you, but last time you complained when I was too rough, so I'm not sure what to make of it. Do you have a preference on how rough I am?”

“No… no preference. I'd actually prefer it if you just did whatever you wanted in that regard — I trust you enough to know you won't actually hurt me,” Eichi tells him, before pausing. “And what happened to me riding you so that I can stay in charge?”

“I-I'm sorry, I'll try not to flip you over.”

“Then go turn off the lights, Keito, I'm ready.”

He can practically hear Keito gulp as he nods. For whatever reason, Keito never fails to get nervous around this part. He doesn't watch as Keito goes to turn off the lights, his heartbeat speeding up as it always does. Once the lights are off, he hears Keito's returning footsteps, until they're replaced by the sounds of him undressing. The customary clink of Keito's belt hitting the floor comes slowly, because he knows Keito is careful to keep his clothes neat, and after what feels like hours, the bed finally dips next to Eichi.

He can hear Keito reaching out for the lube, so he leans over to rest his head on Keito's shoulder. Keito flinches, but continues what he's doing, thorough in his preparations to make sure that Eichi isn't hurt.

“I'm ready.” Those two words have become routine, the final noises they hear from each other before they muffle themselves into the fabrics of their shirts. As of recently, Eichi's learned that Keito enjoys touching him when they have sex, not necessarily in a sexual way, but just mapping out his body, so he helps Keito tie the shirt around his mouth as best he can.

This setup may be weird, but their entire relationship is weird, so they don't mind. Eichi feels Keito's hands rubbing over his waist as he straddles him, a gentle weight outside of the fire burning in the space between their chests. Eichi puts the shirt down for a moment, just long enough for him to press a few indulgent kisses to Keito's shoulder and nibble at it.

Keito twitches and shakes him off, hands moving up Eichi's chest to feel for his sensitive spots, trying to give him a taste of revenge.

“Okay, okay,” Eichi laughs, before covering his mouth again.

He's careful as he sinks onto Keito, unable to contain the low groan that escapes him. He stays seated for a bit, letting Keito's hands roam his body before he lifts his body back up. Keito's hands freeze in anticipation, instantly scratching into his back when Eichi slams his hips back down. Eichi can't help crying out into the shirt, clutching it against his lips as he can as he drags his fingernails through the skin of Keito's shoulder.

He feels Keito shift under him to meet the thrusts of his hips, one hand going up to tweak one of Eichi's nipples.

“Kei—!” he cries into the shirt, wondering if Keito can get hear him with how loud he's being. He can feel Keito freeze under him, holding Eichi by his hips to keep him from moving.

Eichi whines at the loss of the friction, not even completely muffled. Keito's scolding him, he knows, because he's gotten loud enough that Keito can hear. He leans his head back away from the fabric so that he can speak.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers into the darkness, his voice holding a trembling note as his thighs shake. “I'll be quiet, I promise, just… please, let me…” He trails off, because his words make it sound like he's begging Keito to let him come, which is something that a Tenshouin should never have to do. He can feel Keito nod, and once he's covering his mouth again, Keito thrusts up into Eichi.

So much for not reacting to loudly. He's lucky that most of what would come out as moans never leaves his lips, choked back as his breath hitches over and over.

Eventually, the pleasure gets overwhelming, and he climaxes messily against Keito's stomach, clenching down to invite Keito to do the same.

He feels sore the instant his orgasm passes, quick to lift himself off of Keito and collapse into the mattress, grumbling when Keito gets up to turn the light on. He hears Keito sigh, before he feels a wet cloth on his thighs. Eichi lets Keito clean him off as he falls asleep, barely awake enough to register the soft kiss Keito presses to his shoulder.

* * *

 

Keito and Eichi probably shouldn't be let within a few feet of alcohol.

Kuro, having been to more than a few bars with them, knows this, and does his best to distract them from drinking. He sits across from them, somehow managing to keep a normal tone and still be heard of the roar of the bar's chatter.

“So… I guess I'm your third wheel now?”

“You're not!” Keito denies, raising his voice a bit quicker than he would if he hadn't just downed a bottle of beer. Eichi having drunk the same, is arguably worse off, fidgeting in his seat.

“We're not dating,” Eichi adds.

“And yet you…”

“Stop assuming things!”

“I'm not assuming anything, you told me about it the last time you got drunk. Which is why you shouldn't drink.”

“Shut up!” Soon, a second bottle of wine is at Keito's side, then a third, but he still looks better than Eichi does, sharing a second bottle with Kuro, who's trying really hard to keep them under control.

“Let's dance!” he slurs, leaning his weight against Keito in a sloppy hug. His weak, drunk self somehow manages to push Keito up, and Eichi is quick (or we as he can be) to follow. “Come with us, Kuro!”

Kuro shakes his head. “I'll watch for now.”

“Your loss!”

Somehow, while on the way to the open space of the bar, Eichi gets handed a shot — maybe someone recognized him, or maybe payday came for some lucky soul — and it pushes Eichi's sense of self out the window, giving him just the push he needs to loop his arms around Keito's neck and pull him onto the dance floor.

“Keitoooo,” he drawls, pressing his lips to Keito's collarbone. “Dance with me.”

Like this, they're a stupid, swaying mass, and Kuro looks somewhat scared from his corner booth. Keito doesn't say anything, staring down at Eichi awkwardly. Keito's grown a few centimeters, while Eichi hasn't, giving him just enough height to let Eichi hang off of him.

“Kiss meee,” he whines. “You've been so mean lately…”

“I haven't!”

“You have. Keito, Keito, if you really haven't, then kiss me. I gave you my body, I deserve a kiss.”

“I told you I didn't want us kissing!” Keito's much, much quicker to start yelling than he is when sober, though with the clamour around them, it doesn't draw much attention. “And that sex was for our mutual enjoyment!”

“What if I want it to be intimate!?” Oh no, getting into a fight with Keito while drunk and dangling off of the aforementioned man is probably one of the worst decisions he could make. “The term 'friends with benefits’ just sounds miserable…”

“It shouldn't need to be intimate! It doesn't need a name, either; you're over complicating everything!”

“What am I, an object to you!? Why does everything need to be pragmatic with you, anyway!? Should I be punished for having feelings for you!?”

That's what ticks Keito, shoving Eichi off of him to roughly for them to imagine happening were they sober. “You're the one not being sensible! Don't just delude yourself and twist everything into a matter of love!”

The tears that had been beading in Eichi's eyes now freely fall down his cheeks, fisting his hands at his side, as he glares up at Keito. “You're acting like you're afraid of me loving you! Am I the plague to you!?”

“You're a brat, is what you are! And don't even…”

Eichi doesn't hear the rest of it, pushing past Keito and out into the crowd, squeezing his way through until he makes his way to proper dining room, left empty from everyone gathering by the bar. He finds a nice corner, leaning against the wall to slide down and curling himself into a ball. No one should see him like this, not even himself. He's a Tenshouin, he should be better than the _stupid_ person he is, he shouldn't be so easily swayed by his _stupid_ feelings for Keito, he shouldn't be so _stupidly_ naive to think that Keito actually might share those feelings, hell, he shouldn't even be _stupidly_ in love with his _stupid_ childhood friend who he has sex with for _stupid_ reasons.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupidstupidstupid…_

The word blends together in his head, his _stupidly_ drunk brain not being able to properly think. He can hear footsteps approaching, sense someone sitting next to him, and it takes him a few moments to realize that he should be scared.

“Tenshouin.”

Ah, it's just Kuro. If that's the case, then he shouldn't need to worry, at least not as much as he would with Keito, but he still doesn't feel like talking, so he buries his head further into his knees and muffles another choked sob against pant leg.

(Note to sober self: go to the dry cleaners.)

“I saw your fight with Hasumi,” Kuro offers. “What was that about?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“If the people who I'm _not-third-wheeling_ for get into a fight, I think I should at least do something. Is it about your arrangement with Hasumi?”

“W-What?”

“He told me about you two having sex occasionally, said he was worried about ruining your relationship or something.”

Oh, that must have been what he and Keito were arguing about earlier.

“He doesn't care.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I… just want this to be intimate and genuine, but Keito… Keito just treats this like some sort of routine.”

“When you say intimate and genuine, that means you want to starting going out with him, right?”

“Yes…” Eichi finally lifts his head, leaning a bit closer to Kuro, who takes it as an invitation to wrap an arm around him to hold him close. “But I'm being selfish, aren't I? I mean… he called me a brat and all when I tried to tell him.”

“You know how he is when drunk. Before I found you I saw him yelling at some guy for bumping elbows with him.”

“But that person did something that would anger Keito, intentional or not. Why should just telling him that I want us to be intimate evoke the same reaction?”

Kuro goes quiet for a moment, a pensive look on his face.

“He was overreacting, and you know why?” he finally speaks up.” Because he's insecure. He constantly puts you up on such a high pedestal that he can't help but feel unsure of himself. You know, the first time he fucked you, he told me because he needed someone to vent to. He thought that he ruined you, that he took something from you, that he was undeserving. He cares, Tenshouin. So, I think, when you told him that you were unsatisfied, his insecurities got the best of him, and he ended up pushing you away.”

“How do I apologise?”

“You don't need to apologise, technically. You didn't do anything wrong, really, but you could apologise for being too pushy.”

“He'll probably just get mad at me again.”

Kuro sighs against Eichi's head. “Do you want me to talk to him? I won't tell him how you feel or anything, obviously, that's for _you_ to tell him, but I could always go scold him for taking out his insecurities on you.”

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

Eichi can't bring himself to smile, just butting his head against Kuro's cheek as thanks. Kuro chuckles, threading a hand through Eichi's hair.

“You two are both pains in the ass when you're drunk.”

Eichi mumbles something incoherent in response, lulled to peace by Kuro's presence. Kuro and Wataru both have different effects on them, and have both become very important to the two of them over the course of their relationship. When they need their fantasies brought to life, or feel like smiling is going to be impossible, they can always count on Wataru, and when they need a gentle hand to hold, and a steady, grounding presence besides them, or perhaps even a scolding, Kuro is there.

“Thank you,” Eichi mumbles, nearly falling asleep against Kuro.

“Oi,” Kuro scolds, though it holds no weight. Eichi just stays as a limp weight against Kuro's side, and he can hear Kuro sigh. “Fine, then, I'll go get Hasumi and then get the three of us a cab. You can sleep.”

Eichi mumbles a thank you, drunk to the point of nausea, and half-hopeful, half-dreading his next conversation with Keito.

* * *

 

“Hey,” Keito greets him at the subway, voice gliding over a river of awkwardness that distorts it just a little.

“Hey,” Eichi replies, taking a seat next to Keito. “I'm sorry about the incident a few nights ago, I shouldn't have been so pushy.”

He cuts right to the chase — no point in delaying things further.

“You don't need to apologise… I should be the one apologising. Kiryu and I talked about it, and I realize what I did was unfair. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, we were drunk. It's a good thing Kuro-kun was there to round us up.”

“Yeah. And, Eichi,” Keito looks up to face Eichi, an oddly intense emotion swimming in his eyes. “Did you mean what you said? About wanting us to be intimate, I mean.”

Keito remembers? That's no good, not at all, not when Eichi had been planning to confess (if he ever worked up the courage) with a scripted declaration of love.

“A little,” he answers. “But it doesn't really matter, I don't want us to just change things based on my will.”

“It matters to me.”

“It'd feel weird if you just starting being intimate with me, even if I asked. Don't worry, Keito, I'm fine with things as they are.”

Keito's furrowed brows suggest that he wants to fight, but he keeps silent. Good, Eichi doesn't know how he's react if Keito actually started being intimate with him. On one hand, it's everything he could ever wish to happen, but on the other, he can't help but get the feeling that it would seem forced, and only leave him more frustrated.

“If you say so.”

Yet Keito still takes his hand as he gets up, pulling Eichi behind him through the subway as they make their way towards their destination.

Eichi's at a loss as to what to think. He wants this, god, he wants it desperately, but it feels like he's just getting a little taste of it. Still, he lets Keito hold his hand, as even leans against his shoulder once they're seated on the subway.

Minutes pass like a nail file against his conscious, but they get to the station in time.

“There's a place with really good ice cream near here,” Keito tells him once they're on the city streets. “Would that be alright?”

“Of course.”

What do they even plan on doing? All Eichi knew coming into this was that they were going to have to talk, but having brushed that over, it leaves Eichi confused and unsure of what to think. Is this a date? Are they going to go home and fuck?

It doesn't matter, anyway, because Keito is back to gently guiding him, their hands intertwined, and for anyone else, they must look like two men out on a date.

The ice cream place isn't far, and pretty soon, they're ordering. Eichi, being himself, naturally gets the most extravagant thing they have: white chocolate banana. Keito's tastes are far more simple, merely getting a scoop of green tea flavored ice cream.

“I'm an idiot,” he hears Keito mutter while they wait, “It's probably too cold for you to be eating ice cream.”

“You'll warm me up, then, right?”

It rolls off of Eichi's tongue without him realizing what he's saying, which is probably why he's able to say it in a such an innocent tone.

He can see Keito fluster, the way his cheeks get red and he takes sudden interest in a nearby bench.

“If you want, yes,” he mumbles in response.

“Then I think it'll be alright.”

The ice cream, once they get it, turns out to be really good — Keito hadn't been lying. It's even better considering the fact that they're sitting right now to each other and leaning into one another as they eat it. Eichi manages to delude himself into thinking it might be romantic.

“You have a little something…” he hears Keito say, before there's a hand at his chin and a thumb swiping over his lips. He makes eye contact with Keito, watching some sort of resolution play out over his features.

Dragging his thumb down, Keito tilts Eichi's head up, and leans in. They're going to kiss, aren't they? Ahh, Eichi isn't prepared for this!

Before Eichi can be entirely sure of what is happening, he shoves his ice cream cone between them, and Keito's lips meet the cool touch of dairy and sugar, not Eichi's lips.

Keito pulls back almost immediately, red down to his neck. “I-I'm sorry, that was probably really creepy! I just thought…”

“Thought…?” Eichi prompts, face equally as red.

“I thought it seemed like good timing to kiss you. Gah, I'm sorry, I've probably been coming on too strong this entire night.”

So he _was_ planning on kissing Eichi. They're veering dangerously close to the edge, and Eichi's tempted to try again - to tell Keito to kiss him properly, that he just wasn't prepared.

“It's… fine,” he says instead.

“You're sure?”

“Yeah.”

Keito sighs in relief, though it seems unfair since Eichi's chest feels like a powder keg at the moment.

“It's probably stupid, but I thought I could make everything up to you by being intimate like this,” Keito admits after a pause.

“I thought so.”

“Do you not like it?”

“It's tempting to let myself like it,” Eichi answers quietly, “but it seems forced. I feel like I'm going to get hurt if I let myself indulge in it. Us being intimate is a nice thought, but I don't think it can… work, at the moment. It's probably better if we just keep things the way they were.”

Eichi's heart shatters further with every word that leaves his lips, but he forces himself to say it anyway, not able to look Keito in the eye.

“Is that what you want?”

It would be so easy to lie and say _yes,_ but for whatever reason, it's a _'no_ ’ that tumbles from his lips.”

“No?”

“I mean… I'd like for us to intimate, but it doesn't seem like it's going to happen. You and I are just so used to things the way they are that I don't think we could work out as a couple. We're too structural, love isn't like that.”

Except Eichi's not structural at all — his love is flexible beyond belief, twisting and turning out of reach of all of the rules that Keito has set up to try and distance them.

“Are you satisfied just letting me fuck you occasionally?”

_No, god, no, I'm not._

“Yes,” he lies.

Keito just nods, before commenting about how Eichi's ice cream had been melting.

When they get back on the subway, they both decide to head over to Eichi's house, because it's late and they're not in their best mindset, even entertaining the idea of going home and having pity sex. Eichi feels like his entire existence is weighing down on him, and he instantly discards of his shirt and pants in order to collapse into bed under the duvet, ignoring Keito and the way the bed dips a bit at its foot after a few moments. He doesn't move even when the blanket is lifted off his feet and he feels Keito slide under.

Suddenly, there's a tongue at his knee, tracing a pattern up to his inner thigh. Eichi's leg twitches, instinctively pressing the blanket up to his lips. He doesn't mind Keito taking the initiative like this, but a million questions plague him: why Keito is starting things this way; why the lights haven't been turned off and Eichi wasn't told to be quiet; if this is pity sex they talked about briefly earlier — to name a few.

He doesn't know why, but the feeling of Keito sucking on his inner thigh with the intensity to bruise makes him want to cry. Maybe because there's something so affectionate about the way his tongue traces over the soft skin of his inner thigh, to the thought that Keito is marking Eichi as his own, or maybe even because Keito didn't bother to turn off the lights because he _wants_ Eichi.

A few tears meet his pillow without him realizing, too focused on the sensation of Keito's tongue on his other thigh. Keito tosses the blanket over himself, looking up at Eichi in order to gauge his reaction, he's caught off guard when he finds that Eichi's cheeks are tear-streaked.

“Eichi, are you—”

“It's not your fault, Keito, it's just me being selfish…” he interjects. “I'm sorry, I should've realized that I wouldn't be up for it.”

“You don't need to to apologise for anything,” Keito assures him, brushing a hand through Eichi's hair. “I can go home.”

“Stay, please,” Eichi implores. “Is it selfish of me to ask you to just hold me tonight?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then can you…?”

“If you really want me to, Eichi, but I think I should tell you I have a hard on right now.

“Do you want me to take care of it?”

“I couldn't ask you to.”

“I'm offering.”

“And I'm declining, I don't want you to do these kinds of things just because you think you're obligated to.”

“At least take care of yourself. Here,” Eichi hands him a couple of tissues from the tissue box that Keito himself makes him keep at his bedside table. “You can use these and then throw them out. When you're done, take another to clean yourself, and then cuddle me, alright?”

“Alright.”

He can hear the sheets shift as Keito reaches down to stroke himself, his own eyes trained on the painting hung up on the wall. Keito must be muffling himself, because he doesn't hear any noises out of Keito even when he hears the sound of the tissues being thrown out.

Keito is quick to curl up next to Eichi, pulling the blonde into his chest. Eichi hums quietly, lulled to sleep now that he _finally_ doesn't need to sleep a foot away from Keito as they share a bed.

Their awakening is almost hard, because Eichi would swear he's never been more comfortable than he is waking up in Keito's arms. They both wake up at the same time, staring at each for a few moments as they get accustomed to the light again.

This is love, Eichi reminds himself as his chest does a summersault just looking at Keito's face. With only that thought spurring him on, Eichi leans in to kiss him.

Their first proper kiss is sweet, and there's something delicious about the way Keito's lips feel chapped against his own. They're hardly apart for a moment before they're leaning back in.

This is the complete opposite of how Keito fucks him, because it manages to be so gentle that it almost feels criminal.

“Breakfast…” Keito tries to remind Eichi.

“Can wait, Keito."

They share one last indulgent kiss before they're leaning away for good, Eichi's heart beating way too fast considering how early it is.

Shit, he just kissed his childhood friend completely on impulse.

Keito doesn't seem to have any complaints though, blushing at Eichi for a few moments before he's pulling himself away with a promise to return with food.

Once Keito's gone, Eichi curls up into a ball, cursing himself for being so damn stupid and impulsive just because he's in love with Keito. His face is burning, and he hates how the moment in which their lips first met keeps replaying in his head. He twists around like that for a bit before Keito returns with breakfast.

They eat breakfast in silence, and don't bring up the kissing thing for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Another week passes before they meet up again, this time, enjoying a home-cooked lunch courtesy of Keito.

“You really like sushi, don't you, Keito?”

“Why else would I keep making it?”

“I'm going to need to start giving you a sushi allowance at this rate,” Eichi jokes, leaning his head to nuzzle into Keito's shoulder.

“That'd probably help. And hey,” he elbows Eichi's side lightly, “What's up with this?”

“You're comfortable.”

Eichi dances around the issue as per usual, not telling Keito what he actually wants to say, not letting Keito know that he's a lot more than comfortable.

Keito awkwardly wraps an arm around Eichi's shoulder. “Then you're okay with this, right?”

Warmth circles through Eichi, from Keito, yes - because Keito is always so warm somehow, such a contrast from how cold Eichi always is (the perfect excuse for them to do this more often) — but also from just the act itself. The simple warmth of a lover's embrace, growing warmer yet as Eichi's face heats up for thinking those kinds of things.

Eichi nods, taking another bite of his sushi. “Is there a limit to how lenient you'll be around me?”

He isn't sure why he thinks now will be any different, but he knows this sudden courage comes from the warmth boiling in his chest.

“This is why you can't have nice things, Eichi,” Keito huffs, but he doesn't take his arm back.

“If I can't have nice things, then I'll take them. You know better than to assume otherwise.”

“What _nice things_ are you thinking about this time?”

“You,” Eichi answers, without a moment of hesitation, because hey, it's true - there's no greater gift, no _nicer thing,_ than Keito.

That gets Keito to blush, the hand wrapped over Eichi's shoulder shaking a bit. “What do you want from me this time?”

“Nothing much.” Eichi's heartbeat gains speed tenfold, cupping Keito's cheeks in his palms to pull him closer. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” Keito tells him after a pause, not really looking too sure of it.

It's nothing short of _nice_ when Eichi leans in to kiss him properly, tightening his hold on Keito's cheeks. Kissing is like a dance, a waltz that they feel their way around with apprehension before melting into it. That gentle touch of Keito's that Eichi fell in love with takes full front, in the way he slowly reciprocates when Eichi gently takes his lower lip between his own, and in the way his hands gently encircle Eichi's back.

“Can we make this a part of our arrangement?” he asks when he pulls away, a bit breathless because his body seems to be too weak for even a bit of kissing.

“No,” Keito answers decisively.

Eichi whines like the brat he is, laying down on the couch without letting go of Keito so that the other man looks over him. “Why?”

“Because I don't want this to be the same as the sex.” Keito, balancing on his knees, pulls Eichi's hands from his cheeks by the wrists, and they end up framing Eichi's face. “You told me you were frustrated with the lack of intimacy, but no matter what, we'll exhaust the same routine with it and stick to the rules, won't we? I get it, kissing is exciting and fresh, but if we exhaust it the same way, it'll become meaningless, and that will frustrate you. We can't keep dancing around the line of appropriate intimacy and not expecting it to hurt in the end. We can't keep acting like a couple and then becoming frustrated with it.”

“Then why don't we become a couple?”

This is as good as a confession around Keito, who's become so good at evading Eichi's carefully worded prose. Keito's mouth hangs open a shocked look on his face from how direct Eichi has been.

“You don't mean that.”

“What makes you think I don't?”

“Because if you really wanted a romantic partner, you'd go to someone else, wouldn't you? There's no way I… I'd be enough to keep you satisfied. On the same token, if you just want sex, then I'm perfect, aren't I? I'll do whatever you to tell me to, more or less, so it's not complicated at all.”

“Is that what you think?”

“What?”

“Do you really think I'd cause all of these issues about wanting us to be intimate if I didn't like you that way? I knew you were stupidly aloof, don't tell me you're stupid too. Besides, I'm not _that_ desperate for sex, my body's too weak for the strain. That in mind, why do you think I let you have me?”

“That can't be right, I—”

“It _is_ right, Keito. I love you, can't you tell? The reason why I want us to keep kissing is because it feels intimidate, because I can delude myself into thinking that you feel the same when we do it.”

“You… you don't need to delude yourself.”

“H-Huh?”

“You're so incorrigible. Do you really think I'd treat you like you're my boyfriend if I didn't feel that way about you? Do you think I'd care so much about what you think?”

“You seriously… you seriously are the worst! You made me pine over you and everything even though you loved me? You should’ve told me, stupid.”

“I don't see why _you_ couldn't tell me.”

“Because, Keito, you made up all those stupid rules! ‘We can't kiss, or look at each other, or hear the kind of reactions’—”

“Honestly…” Somehow, Keito's voice manages to hold an amused edge, pausing Eichi's ranting just long enough for him to speak. “Do you think I'd do all of those things to make you feel good if I didn't want to listen to the kinds of noises you make? I was restraining myself, because if I became spoiled, then who would keep this spoiled _bocchama_ in check?”

It's so unfair how Keito can slip that nickname in, how he manages to imply so many different notions that make Eichi's heart race. His face explodes into a delicate shade of pink, and if his hands weren't pinned, he'd have to cover it, in order to make sure that Keito can't see how his eyes are blown wide, how his lips part in surprise, and most definitely so that he can't hear Eichi's breath catch.

“Y-You… you should spoil yourself occasionally, Keito.”

If hearing Keito speak to him like that flustered him so much, he doesn't know why he decides to encourage Keito further. But he can't say that he regrets it when Keito's lips meet the crook of his neck in a gentle, slow kiss that makes his entire body turn to goo. Suddenly, everything loses importance except for the teasing movement of Keito's lips against his neck. A moan builds in his throat, melting like honey into the air around them.

He's never heard himself quite like _that,_ especially not when another person could hear, and it embarrasses him beyond belief. If he could, he'd slap a hand against his mouth to try and muffle it, but both his hands are pinned, and he finds himself squirming under Keito.

“I thought you were indulging me, Eichi?”

“Y-You couldn't enjoy it that much.”

“Oh, I could. I didn't expect you to sound this… lovely. As expected, your voice is always a treat to listen to, Eichi.”

“Flirt.”

"You seem to like it.”

Eichi looks away stubbornly. “You're awful. I miss being the one teasing you.”

“I think I prefer you like this.”

“Meanie,” Eichi pouts, though it doesn't hold any weight. It _can't,_ not with how his face is still a vibrant shade of red and how he can't even look Keito in the eyes.

Keito just chuckles, letting his lips move up Eichi's neck so that they're now focused on the junction between his ear and jaw. His body is flush against Eichi's, chest pressed to Eichi's own, and his crotch grinding against Eichi's lazily. Somehow, this manages to be the most arousing situation Eichi has ever been in, which leaves Eichi screwed his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the armrest of the couch.

“You're so…” Keito is speaking into Eichi's neck, and it tickles. His voice sounds lost, almost, dream-like in a way that sounds unlike him. “... I don't know how to say it — captivating, ethereal, neither are enough.”

Eichi says nothing, lost in the way that he can feel one of Keito's migrating down his side to land at his thigh. That hand is soon joined by another, sliding back up to begin undressing Eichi.

Deft as he works, Keito stays silent himself, leaning up on the couch to press a kiss to Eichi's jaw. Once Eichi's sweater is pulled up as high as it can go, he urges Eichi up, and for once, Eichi isn't a child, and actually obeys.

“Are you planning on us doing it right here, next to the food?” he asks, breath jumping a bit at the end as Keito brushes a hand over his chest once he's pulled the sweater off completely.

“I just wanted to look at you,” Keito answers, voice soft as it could be. He leans down and presses his face into the skin, just breathing against Eichi's chest in time with his heartbeat.

Eichi's hands are free now, so nothing stops his from tangling them in Keito's hair, gently holding the other man against his chest.

“Ah, even this is nice, us sitting here just like this.”

“It is.” Keito nods affirmatively against Eichi's chest, before pressing himself up so he can talk to Eichi directly. “Let's stay like this for a bit. Afterwards, I'll carry you to my bed so that I can take care of you, alright, Eichi~?”

“What about you?”

It's so unfair how Keito can make his heart beat like this, how just a taste of intimacy is more dangerous to him than his disease has ever been - he wants more.

Keito just smiles, leaning forward to gently capture Eichi's lips with his own. Pushing himself up slightly, Eichi combs his fingers through Keito's hair, waiting for him to pull away.

“Ahh, I love you,” he mumbles, voice nearly lost in the space between them. “You're so…”

“Mm?” Keito's hands are already on the fly of his jeans, pulling the zipper down with one hand and urging Eichi's hips up with the other.

“...So good to me. Even if it means listening to a lecture, just spending time with you is the most precious gift.”

Eichi's jeans are off, but Keito's left his boxers on, moving his hands away completely. Eichi whines, until he realizes that Keito is leaning away to undress. He still tugs at Keito's hair, pouting.

“Keep talking,” Keito instructs. “Just like you are now.”

“Okay?” Eichi tries to think of more, but his mind blanks just as he feels Keito's crotch, now only with his boxers, press against his own. “I, ah, _Keito,_ I…” Taking a few deep breaths, he lets Keito hold him steady for a moment. “I probably wouldn't even be alive without you. Because you came into my life and-” his words are cut off with a sharp intake of breath as he feels Keito's hand slip under his boxers. “And gave me warmth, and gave me reasons to look forward to be alive, and…”

He trails off again, lost in the sight of a now naked Keito hovering above. Glasses askew in the bridge of his nose, Keito hardly looks put together, but something about the sight is so commanding that he can't help but stare.

“And?” Keito prompts, maneuvering himself so that he can take Eichi into his arms so that he can carry him. Eichi's head hangs limply against his chest, voice wavering a bit as he urges it to respond.

“And you held my hand when I was getting those awful shots. You drew me pictures and let me feel normal, you followed me all the way to Yumenosaki to take care of me.” The bed is soft under Eichi's body, much more comfortable than the couch, though he hadn't noticed that it was uncomfortable in the moment. Eichi curls up on his side, arms crossed against his chest, breathing heavily as Keito presses another soft kiss to his shoulder.

“You… you stayed with me and protected me even though I was such a monster. You never left…” Keito's getting something from his end table, and Eichi has a pretty good idea of what. “Wait.”

Instantly, Keito freezes. “I’m sorry. Am I being too pushy?”

“Let me finish.”

There's a hand tracing over Eichi's back even as Keito nods, and Eichi wonders if he's challenging him in some sort of game.

“No matter what, you stayed with me and held my hand, and let me be weak. You thrust me into the protagonist's spot and let me be strong. You— nn, _Keito.”_

Keito's back to pressing kisses to Eichi's neck, so painfully unhurried that it makes Eichi drive his nails into his palms.

“You were the first person to look at me as _Eichi Tenshouin,_ not the sickly young master of the Tenshouin household. That's— ah, Keito—!”

There's a hand between his thighs now, and it's becoming even harder to think properly.

“T-That's why I love you,” he finishes, giving up trying to suppress the moans spilling past his lips.

“I love you too, Eichi, more than you could ever imagine. That's why I'm here with you now.”

Eichi nods hesitantly, spreading his thighs to invite Keito between them. “I would've never thought...that I'd get to hear you say that.” Keito's hand is back in his boxers, coaxing them down slowly.

“I'll say it as many times as you want me to,” Keito reassures him, kissing Eichi's cheek.

“Say it again, then.”

Keito doesn't say it immediately, taking his time to splay his arms over Eichi's entire body, making sure that every part of him is equally as loved as the last. “I love you.”

The smile that curves on Eichi's lips is blissfully joyous, almost innocent, ironic considering his position, especially considering that finger tracing around his hole — Keito must have prepared it when he wasn't paying attention. Almost taken aback by the sensation, Eichi twitches.

“Oh, sorry, do you not want to?” Keito asks, bringing his finger down to trace over Eichi's thighs instead.

“You surprised me, is all,” Eichi huffs, furrowing his brows into a pout.

“Sorry, sorry. And don't pout like that, you know I'll have to kiss you.”

Eichi pout is broken by his giggles, tilting his head to let Keito kiss him more easily.

The finger is back to Eichi's rear, and, holding Eichi's hand in his own free hand, Keito eases it in.

When it's in to the knuckle, Keito is the one gasps, surveying Eichi with what the blonde can tell is a frenzied gaze. Nevermind the fact that they've fucked before, this is something new, and when Keito experimentally thrusts his finger, Eichi realizes that Keito's gauging his reaction.

It isn't much, truth be told, but Eichi's breath jumps audibly.

“Do you want me to guide you?” he offers, more for Keito's sake than his own.

“No, not really. Actually, if it's okay with you, I want to try and experiment a bit to see how you react.”

“I'm all yours, Keito,” Eichi purrs in response, voice effortlessly soft and alluring.

Keito sighs shakily, leaning down to rest his head against Eichi's shoulder as he continues to finger the blonde. With time, he slips in a second finger, pushing himself up in time to see a flush spreading across Eichi's face and the way he's biting his lip.

His fingers begin to roam, searching to see which spot gets the best reaction. When he finds it, Eichi's body immediately tenses under his, and he lets out a low whimper.

To his displeasure, Keito only lingers there for a moment before moving on.

 _“Keito,”_ he whines, twitching a bit. “Don't be so mean, quit avoiding it.”

“Oh? I'm not sure I've found it yet, Eichi,” Keito teases. “And besides, it'd be a lot less fulfilling if I didn't get to see all of your reactions.”

“So that's how it is? I can't believe I'm letting you take me, you're absolutely awf— ah!” He's cut off by his own moan, coming out unbidden in response to Keito curling his fingers _just right._

“Hm? What was that, Eichi?” Keito's grinning above him, obviously lost in Eichi's reactions.

“You’re awful,” Eichi heaves out. “Don't be so mean.”

“But you're cute when you're not in control.” A third finger slips into Eichi to prove his point, and Eichi _writhes,_ ears burning as he screws his eyes shut. “It's so nice, being able to see you like this… All of my hard work is being rewarded.”

“You… you're getting off to my reactions, aren't you?” Eichi accuses, getting a _tsk_ out of Keito.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“You have the weirdest turn-ons,” Eichi grumbles, but he can't keep up the indifference for long, because Keito's fingers all curl in just the right places and Eichi forgets how to breathe.

Keito says nothing, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the bed sheets. Surprisingly, he doesn't immediately begin to prepare himself, instead leaning down with his chest pressed to Eichi's so that he can whisper in his ear.

“Before you let me have you,” he rasps, voice rough and gritty and _hot_ against Eichi's skin. “I need to know that you realize how much I love you.”

“Ah, Keito…” Eichi shudders, fingers trailing up Keito's sides to land at his shoulders. “I know, god, I know… You would've left a long time ago if you loved me any less, right? There's no way I wouldn't have realized it now.”

“Eichi…” Keito sighs against his neck, all warm and sweet, before shuffling to prepare himself without lifting his head from Eichi's neck. Lost in the warmth against his neck, Eichi hardly registers Keito slowly sinking in.

“I love you,” Keito gasps, face buried in Eichi's skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…” he chants it out like a prayer. “I, god, I love you so much, you… haah, you're like an angel. … No one else… there's no one else as precious to me… You…” he groans roughly, finally moving his hips to give Eichi some pleasure. “You feel _so good,_ Eichi. It's like… someone took all of the warmth in your soul and… let me feel it.” He's truly far gone, and Eichi guesses that it wouldn't make any difference were he to fall asleep right now, Keito would still love him like this all the same.

Keito doesn't wait for a response before pulling his hips back, hardly giving Eichi the time to brace himself before shoving them forward again. Eichi whines sharply, clawing at Keito's shoulders in order to find purchase on _something._

“Isn't that good, Eichi?” Keito pauses, waiting for Eichi to respond before he continues.

“It is,” Eichi affirms, brazenly pulling Keito into a kiss. It's all tongue, enough so that it makes it hard for Eichi to breathe, but he doesn't mind, because he can feel Keito's trembling hands gripping his hips, holding him in place so that he can't disappear, a steady weight where everything else is mayhem.

Keito keeps holding him like that, gently, somehow, even as they pull away, and he's thrusting back into Eichi.

Somewhere in his chest, Eichi feels it twisting with warmth, almost like a drowning sensation, but he can't bring himself to care. If it means that he gets to drown in the warmth that Keito blessed him with as a child, that he'd welcome it.

Well, it's not as though he isn't melting, because he can't help but become putty under Keito's lips as the man looming over him presses painfully unhurried kisses to his chest and shoulders.

“K-Keito,” he murmurs, voice low and brimming with affection. “Thank you… thank you so much for staying with me.”

He feels Keito's lips curl against his skin, and is blessed by the sight of a disgustingly tender smile when Keito pulls back to look at him properly. If there wasn't pleasure coursing through him with Keito's every movement, he wouldn't believe that Keito could be making such a face when he's in the middle of fucking Eichi. Hell, he might not have even believed that he'd get to see that kind of look on Keito's face, period.

But here he is, a pile of goo under Keito's body, looking up at Keito's affectionate smile as his body shivers from the friction between them.

“Oh, Eichi,” he coos, and if his voice wasn't raspy from the sex, it'd be impossibly soft, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Still… don't you think you're spoiling me a bit much?”

“Really? With how wonderfully responsive you've been — your reactions are just the _best_ — it feels more like I'm spoiling myself.”

It's absolutely cruel how he punctuates that phrase with a rough thrust of his hips, making Eichi cry out louder and bury his face in Keito's shoulder.

It feels like a contradiction, almost, how Keito is pressing soft kisses to the top of his head in spite of the fact that he's buried deep into Eichi. His hands roam over Eichi's skin, never lingering, but consistently sending shivers down his spine. His stamina is amazing, and the pace he sets up is relentless, just barely bordering on too much for Eichi.

Well, it's not as though Eichi would have contradictions even then. Not like he can even consider it, because for someone as wicked as he is, Keito's kindness is a treasure more priceless than anything he could ever get his hands on. So if he wants to spoil himself, if he wants to make Eichi's head spin, then Eichi is okay with it.

Keito's nibbling his shoulder, with a touch so hardly there that it makes Eichi whine. Keito listens, biting down lightly into the soft skin. If any word could he used to describe, Eichi's reaction, it would be _glorious,_ and Keito must agree, because he does it again, harder and with the intent to bruise, and that's what has Eichi throwing his head back against the mattress, spilling over their stomachs in what must be the most intense orgasm of his life.

He catches a glimpse of Keito's face, mouth bent into an _o_ shape, a look of pure awe. In the next moment, Keito's hips stutter, and he's reaching his climax inside of Eichi.

Keito collapses atop Eichi, panting into the skin of his neck. His hands roam up from Eichi's hips, rubbing his sides comfortingly as they try to find their words again.

Just as Eichi thinks he's found his words, he's silenced by Keito's lips on his, capturing them in gentle kiss, as if Keito's trying to ask him if he's okay. Eichi kisses back — he _is_ okay — and they stay there for a moment before Keito is pulling back with a smile.

“I've always wanted to do that,” Keito whispers, tone soft and affectionate, and it might just melt Eichi from the inside.

“You can do it again, if you want.”

Keito's smile widens, just by a bit, before he leans down to kiss Eichi again, shorter this time, because he can't just stay in one place when he has the entirety of Eichi under him. His lips move down Eichi's chin and neck, landing at the spot on his shoulder where he has left a small mark and kissing it in consolation. His glasses fall from the bridge of his nose to the mattress as he does so, brushing past Eichi's skin.

“You didn't take your glasses off,” Eichi notes.

“Of course not, I wanted to watch you.”

It's a curse how oblivious Keito can be to flirting, even his own, because Eichi can't stop his cheeks from turning red. Pulling his head up from Eichi's shoulder, Keito notices, and laughs quietly.

“I love you, Eichi. I really do.”

Eichi's hands leave Keito's shoulder, loosely wrapping around his neck to pull him closer so that their noses can brush.

“I know.”

Despite the ache brewing between his legs, at his back and at his neck, and the small residue of pain that had found a place in that little lacuna that Keito's love had been meant to fill and caused his heart to ache, Eichi has to say, there's a comfort in this. A comfort in how Keito is so solidly _there,_ in how Keito supports him at his back and neck, in the intrusive presence of Keito between his thighs, in the knowledge that all of the pain and anguish from before was worth it.

Keito is here with him, holding him and kissing him and laughing at the red dying his cheeks, telling Eichi how much he loves him for the nth time today, and still, it isn't annoying. It couldn't be, not when it's like pouring light into an abyss of night, like he was the lonely moon and Keito is the star that came to watch over the night with him.

Keito is here, the whole ranting, annoying, frustrating, lecturing, bastardly, loyal hull of a man who's held the spot of Eichi's right hand man longer than Eichi can remember, and has only now, finally made it to the place in his heart where his words are melted to gold.

Yes, Eichi will welcome him with open arms, even if it means getting hurt, because he's used to _hurt_ and _hurting,_ and even so, if there's anything that's truly, unbearably annoying about Keito, it's how he'll never let Eichi get hurt.

Eichi says it again, quieter this time, words only meant for the void where everything is hazy, and dull musk over them that scares Eichi like death.

But because Keito was the one who held Eichi's hand as a child, and taught him how life shines in the face of death, he won't cower away; no, he'll take Keito's hand, and pull him forward, he'll be confident for once in his life, _truly_ confident, behind that golden veil of security that he puts up, and brazenly risk the fall.

If there's anything he knows, it's that Keito, surely, will catch him.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh


End file.
